


No Rest for the Wicked

by wrote_and_writ



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:19:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4913887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrote_and_writ/pseuds/wrote_and_writ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested by a friend: roah or adansey + for the past nights you’ve constantly been in my dreams doing really weird shit and now i can’t look at you properly anymore AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Rest for the Wicked

Ronan put headphones on and turned up the volume on his iPod to ear-bleeding levels and laced his tennis shoes. He gave Noah and Gansey a cursory wave as he jogged out of Monmouth. He paused in the parking lot to stretch, then took off down the road. The sun had long since set, but Ronan could not risk sleeping.  


Dreams were risky things for Ronan, but lately the images that woke when he slept were things he could not get a handle on. Three weeks he had the same dream. He couldn't remember much from the dreams, which by itself would have been unusual, but the things he did remember...   


Ronan picked up his pace, feeling a tight burn in his calves and his chest. He had tried drinking himself to sleep, but that only seemed to make the dreams worse, so he hoped to tire himself out instead. He concentrated on the slap of feet on the pavement, the jolt each step sent through his body. The air held the heat of the day, dragging his limbs like weights.  


_You know what would fix that,_ a traitorous voice in the back of his mind taunted.   


Ronan grimaced and pushed himself forward, lungs burning with the effort.  


_A cool hand on your back while you sleep. Breath on your neck. A body pressing against the length of you._  


Ronan turned up the road that led to the school, one of the steepest hills in Henrietta.  


_You know where you can get some relief._  


"God damn," Ronan growled. He stopped on the side of the road, doubled over, hands on knees, chest heaving as he fought to calm his breathing. This was a nightmare. Not the monsters that followed him from the darkest parts of dream forests. He had brought terrible things with him, terrible things that bloomed in the corners of his own mind.  


Ronan scrubbed a hand across his face. Objectively, there was nothing terrible about his recent dreams. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it before, what it would be like, going into that spartan room, stretching out on the bed, curling against him. He thought about it a lot. He thought about it every time Noah perched beside him on the couch, close enough to touch but holding himself apart.  


He thought about bringing Noah to Cabeswater, showing him the hollow that always smelled like rain and strawberries. He thought about the one piece of dream he remembered in embarrassing, technicolor detail, and--  


"Christ almighty!" Ronan yelped as an ice-cold hand closed on his shoulder. He flailed, and Noah narrowly missed an elbow to the nose. Ronan pushed his headphones off, and querulous music broke the silence of the street.  


"I shouted and shouted," Noah said. He looked at his feet and rubbed the back of the neck. "Gansey's worried."  


"Gansey always worries," Ronan replied tersely. He forced himself to take long, deep breaths.   


"You're being weird."  


"Says the asshole who appears out of thin air and freaks his friends the fuck out. Are you that desperate for a new friend that you need to scare one to death?"  


Noah reacted as though Ronan had punched him.  


"Oh, shit, Noah, shit. That's not what I--"  


Noah vanished, taking all the warmth of the evening with him, taking Ronan's breath away.  


"Shit!" Ronan clenched his fists. "Noah! Noah, come back! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"  


The wind picked up, a sobbing gust of air filled the street and raised the hairs on the back of Ronan's neck.  


"Noah," he said, softer now, "Noah. Come back."  


Silence.  


"Damn it." Ronan ran back to Monmouth at top speed, threw himself into his car, and peeled out of the lot. He headed to the old church, the spot where they buried Noah's bones. He could feel Noah's presence before he reached the grave.  


Noah lay curled on one side, his fingers digging into the grass that covered his grave. His shoulders shook in silent sobs. Ronan dropped down on the ground beside him and curled against the ghostly boy, solid under Ronan's embrace. Ronan draped an arm over Noah's waist and held him close. He murmured a litany of apologies until Noah calmed and stilled against him.  


"I was just checking," Noah said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper.  


"I know. I'm sorry. I'm an asshole."  


"You've been so strange. I was worried."  


"I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."  


"How?"  


"I don't know, but I'm sure I'll think of something."  


Noah rolled over so he could look at Ronan. His eyes were luminous, too bright to be real, and Ronan shivered. Noah blinked, and his eyes were normal again, as normal as anything about him ever was. He tucked his arms against his stomach and scooted away from Ronan.   


"You smell," he said after a moment's hesitation.  


Ronan snorted. "Like you can tell."  


"I can, actually," Noah said, his tone wounded. "Especially here. You need a shower." Ronan swallowed, and Noah sighed. "I wish I could take a shower."  


"Tomorrow we can come back, and I'll hook up one of those camp showers. Or maybe we could go swimming in Cabeswater."  


"Maybe," Noah said forlornly. "But seriously. You stink."  


"Christ, fine. Let's go home." Ronan got to his feet and offered Noah a hand up. His body flooded with ice at Noah's touch, instant relief.  


_You know he'd give it to you if you asked._  


Ronan cast Noah's hand aside as though he'd been burned.  


"What?"  


"Nothing. It's fine. I'm fine. Let's just go home, yeah? After I clean up, we can watch TV, anything you like."  


"Can we watch Supernatural?"  


"Seriously? Fuck, Noah, you _live_ Supernatural."  


Noah shrugged. "Dean's cute."  


Ronan nodded. Noah was not wrong. "Fine, but you're gonna have to make popcorn while I shower. I'm gonna need something to throw at the screen." He hooked an arm around Noah's shoulders and steered him towards the car. "And you're gonna have to figure out a way to get Gansey to shut up."  


Noah shrugged again. "Maybe I'll just tell him about your dreams."  



End file.
